


Right Beside You (In Sickness and Health)

by WakeUpDreaming



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Appendicitis, Dr. Toby Curtis, F/M, Fluff, Happy is sick, Hospitals, Late Night Conversations, Pain med high!Happy, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5284949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeUpDreaming/pseuds/WakeUpDreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Go back to work,” Happy says. “I know you’re staring at me.”</p><p>“Yeah,” says Toby, standing and walking toward her. “Because you look like you’re in pain.”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Happy says, gritting her teeth. “Just a stomach ache.”</p><p>“That’s your appendix,” says Toby, finally sure of where Happy is feeling the pain. “Look, if I just check the area, I can tell if –”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Beside You (In Sickness and Health)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Marianas Trench's "Dearly Departed," but a more appropriate MTrench song for them would be Shut Up and Kiss Me or Good to You. Probably stutter, too. For the prompt "Happy in the hospital for whatever reason!"  
> Warning for medical discussion, conversations around drugs (both medicinal and recreational), hospital stuff, and Toby being concerned for Happy in both doctorly and romantic manners.

All she has to do is wince, and Toby can tell something is wrong, even from across the garage. Usually Happy comes alive in the latest hours of the night, the darkness in the garage giving her mechanical inspiration, but she looks like something is seriously wrong.

She shifts where she stands, an expression across her face that he’s not sure he’s seen before. She rests her hand on her side, the grimace growing as she touches a place on her right side.

Toby sets down his book and watches her for a moment.

“Go back to work,” Happy says. “I know you’re staring at me.”

“Yeah,” says Toby, standing and walking toward her. “Because you look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine,” Happy says, gritting her teeth. “Just a stomach ache.”

“That’s your appendix,” says Toby, finally sure of where Happy is feeling the pain. “Look, if I just check the area, I can tell if –”

Happy stares at him. “Oh, so you can take a moment to feel me up? Nice try.”

Toby groans. “Hap, I’m a doctor. With a medical license. This is literally my job.”

“No,” Happy replies. “Your job is to sit down, shut up, and do what Walter and I tell you.”

Toby raises an eyebrow. “Okay, that was just mean and you know it.”

She looks appropriately cowed when he makes the comment, and her bravado falls. “It hurts,” she says in a voice he’s never heard before. The admission of pain would worry him enough, but just the tone in her voice scares the absolute shit out of him.

“For how long?” Toby asks, looking at her right side. She lets him lift up her shirt, and even the brush of the fabric makes her jump. “A while, huh,” he mumbles, looking. “Do you mind if I check your abdomen for any unusual pressure?”

Happy shrugs. “If it’ll make it stop, go ahead.”

“It might hurt more,” Toby warns.

“Just go ahead,” Happy says. She grips at her work table.

Toby barely presses his hands against her skin before she yelps, jumping away.

“Okay,” says Toby. “To the hospital we go.”

She shakes her head. “I’m good.”

“You’re not good,” Toby corrects. “You have appendicitis.”

“Then I’ll drive myself.”

Toby scoffs. “On your motorcycle? Yeah, right.” He jumps over Happy’s table, sliding until he hits the end, and runs to his desk to get his keys. She’s watching him with mild amusement.

“Was that necessary?” she asks, managing a smile.

“Nope,” he says. “Just wanted to see if you would laugh. I’m driving.”

“Are not.”

“Are too, and are we six?” Toby asks. “Car. Now. You’re sick.”

Walter looks up from where he was on his computer. “What?”

“Happy’s got appendicitis, and I’d bet my paycheck on it,” Toby says. “Not sure when we’ll be back.”

Walter checks his watch. “You’re leaving now? It’s two in the morning.”

“Surprisingly,” Toby says as he throws on his jacket, “medical problems never sleep.”

Happy makes a tiny, high pitched whimper every time the car hits a bump.

They wait for too long in the lobby, Toby checking in with the nurse incessantly.

“I’ve got a medical degree,” he keeps saying. “It’s appendicitis. Not ruptured, but it’s getting there.”

“We don’t have any available general surgeons at the moment, sir,” the receptionist says. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to wait.”

Toby and Happy resort to playing an extreme game of tic-tac-toe as they wait, Happy leaning her head on Toby's shoulder.

An hour after they get checked in, they take Happy and, after tests, explain that there’s no rupture.

She looks full on terrified as they explain that she needs an emergency appendectomy, as it's still inflamed.

“No thanks,” she says, trying to get out of the hospital bed. “Nobody’s cutting me open today.”

Toby catches her hand and gently holds onto her. She stops struggling in a second and turns to him.

“I don’t – I’ve never had surgery,” she says, panic in her eyes. “Freaks me out. I don’t like the idea of lying there, with people,” she shudders. “With people digging inside me.”

“They’re doctors,” Toby says, “surgeons. They know even more than I do,” he says, with a grin.

“We all know more than you do,” Happy jokes, but she squeezes Toby’s hand. He’s never seen her scared like this before. He doesn’t like it.

The surgeon, who had introduced herself as Dr. Morgan, walks in looking ready for surgery. She’s tall with a kind face, and Toby trusts her already. “Are you ready to be prepped for surgery, Mrs. Quinn?” the doctor asks.

Toby braces himself for Happy to vehemently demand they correct the mistake. Instead, she just goes, “Ms. Quinn,” and settles herself on the hospital bed.

“Wow,” Toby says, sitting next to her. “You really are sick.”

“I’m also about to get changed into a hospital gown, so go,” she says, pointing. “You can come back when I say so.”

Toby nods. “I’ll be right outside.”

As he leaves, he thinks he hears her mumble, “Thank you.”

A few minutes and a game of 2048 later, Happy’s calling him back.

“Toby,” she says, “I’m not sure about this.”

“You’re going to be fine,” he reassures her.

She looks weirdly small in the hospital bed, lacking the bravado and the attitude and the two inch heels on her boots.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Happy says. “It makes me feel like a patient.”

He frowns. “You are a patient.”

Happy glares at him. “Like one of your patients.”

“Sorry,” Toby says. “I can go if you –”

“No!” Happy says quickly. “I mean, don’t. Please.”

He nods. “I’ll be here until you wake up. And then probably I’ll be here so long that you get sick of me and throw things at me.”

She manages a grin. “I always throw things at you.”

“Exactly,” Toby says. “It means you’ll be normal.”

The doctor comes in right after that, chatting about the procedure and having Happy sign document after document.

It’s only a few minutes later that Happy’s looking at a needle with absolute horror.

“I know it’s already in my arm,” she says, eyes locked on the needle that would be putting the first round of medication into her system, “but it still looks awful.”

“But it’ll make you feel great!” Toby says, trying for a smile. Happy just glares at him in response.

“Okay,” he says, hands in the air. “No joking. Gotcha.”

The medication goes in and Happy’s expression changes immediately.

“You were right,” she says, giddy and laughing. “This is fantastic.”

The doctors laugh. “Good to see her relax for the first time,” Dr. Morgan says. “Must be interesting to be with someone so intense.”

Toby makes a face. “Not – together,” he says.

“Not yet,” Happy says, rolling her eyes.

Toby stares at her. “Excuse me?”

Happy frowns. “Did I say something?”

“You did,” Toby says. “I’m going to suggest you stop talking now.”

She gives his hand a last squeeze before she’s wheeled away, and that’s when Toby lets himself be worried.

“She’s fine,” he tells himself, not being very convincing. “Hasn’t burst, nothing’s wrong.”

A nurse looks at him. “Are you alright?”

He nods. “Yes,” Toby says. “I am fine. Could you direct me to the waiting room?”

* * *

He waits. And waits. And waits. It feels like days, but he goes step by step through the process of an appendectomy to help him focus, to calm him down. He’s more nervous than he wants to admit. It’s Happy – she’s kickass, she’s strong. She’s going to be fine.

After ages, someone walks in front of him.

“Mr. Quinn?”

Toby shrugs because, yeah, close e-fucking-nough, and nods. “That’s me. Mr. Curtis.”

Dr. Morgan winces. “Sorry. Mr. Curtis. Happy’s fine, she’s in the recovery room.”

“Can I see her?”

Dr. Morgan shakes her head. “We have a lot of patients in there right now, and we’re concerned about the noise level for one particular child.”

Toby nods.

“But we can show you to the room where she’ll be staying. We’ll probably keep her overnight, but not much past that.”

Toby checks his watch. It’s 1:30 in the afternoon – he’s not sure where the time went, but he does have two crappy paperback romance novels in his back pockets. He was actually pleased when Princess Jemma chose the dashing prince over the stereotypical bad boy peasant who wasn’t actually all that kind. He hates that he had a preference.

It’s more waiting as he goes into Happy’s hospital room, and when she’s wheeled in she looks just full on annoyed.

She points to her throat, her expression speaking for her.

“Yeah, I know, they have to do that to make sure you breathe,” Toby says. “Your throat might hurt, but that’ll go away soon.”

She opens her mouth and it’s a croak.

“Exactly,” Toby says.

Happy just glares.

“You’re pretty medicated, honey,” says the nurse. She turns to Toby. “Are you her husband?”

“Best friend,” Toby corrects.

They go over everything and Happy’s first words after surgery are, “Screw this.”

Toby laughs. “There’s my girl.” He freezes after he says it because, well, Happy might just kill him, but the words don’t phase her and she tries to drink the apple juice drink that the nurse gives her.

“This apple juice is a disappointment,” she says hoarsely.

“That’s because it’s a nutrient drink,” Toby says, pointing to the label.

Happy grabs the remote control and puts it to Mythbusters, then promptly falls asleep again.

Every time Toby tries to change the channel she wakes up, smacks his hand, and falls asleep within fifteen minutes.

“Hey!” says Paige, walking in around 3:30. “How’s she doing?”

“Asleep,” Toby says.

“Not asleep,” Happy says, cracking an eye open. “And ow is how I’m doing.”

Ralph peeks around from behind his mom. “Hi, Happy,” he says with a gentle voice. “Are you okay?”

“Doing better now, thanks to the doctors,” Happy says, offering him a comforting smile. She pats him on the head.

“Good,” says Ralph. “I looked up all the legal information about this hospital and I know just who to talk to if there are complications.”

“When did you have time to do that?” Paige asks, bewildered.

“I took your phone when you were talking to the receptionist lady,” Ralph replies.

* * *

 

The visitors come in and leave throughout the afternoon until, when it’s just Sly and Toby in the room, Happy says, “Okay. I’m a little over-visited.”

Sly kisses her forehead. “Okay, Happy. See you later!”

“We’ll go,” Toby says, standing in his chair. Happy catches his sleeve.

“Not you,” she says quietly.

Toby swallows as she shifts her grip to his hand.

“Okay,” he says, sitting back down in the acceptably comfortable chair.

Nurses come in at 10:30 and suggest to Happy that she sleep, and Toby agrees with it.

“It’ll help you recover,” Toby says, raising an eyebrow.

Happy sighs. “If I have to.”

They give her some more medication, something a little stronger, and she’s out cold.

“She’s an interesting one,” says the new nurse, Rachel. “Girl’s been getting up and walking around more than usual people have been lately. She’ll be out of here by tomorrow I’ll bet.”

Toby looks at her, unable to keep himself from smiling. “She’s the best,” he says.

Toby watches TV as Happy sleeps next to him, muttering nonsense as she dreams.

Rachel comes back in a few hours later as Toby is pretending he’s not crying over Cedric’s death in the fourth Harry Potter movie.

“This one’s the worst,” Happy says as Rachel wakes her up. “Like, no one believes Harry. It sucks.”

Toby nods.

“You were crying over Cedric again,” Happy observes. “Like always.”

“We’ve watched this movie together twice!” Toby says. “Only part way through!”

“And you cried,” says Happy, “both times. All three times now.”

Toby rolls his eyes as Rachel explains more medication she needs to put into Happy’s IV.

It seems fairly routine, but then Happy gasps.

“There’s an air bubble!” Happy exclaims. Toby can tell she’s still half asleep, the pain medication blurring her awareness even further. “I’m gonna have an embolism.”

“You’re fine,” Toby says. “It might feel a little weird, but you’re gonna be okay.”

Happy looks at him, panicked. “Are you sure?” she asks.

“It’s literally my job,” he says for the tenth time. “So yeah.”

She grips his hand like a vice as she waits for what apparently she’s convinced is certain death, then relaxes. “There was no embolism,” she says very seriously.

“Correct.”

She stares at her arm in concentration until some sort of realization appears on her face. “I am high as a kite,” she adds.

“That is also correct,” says Toby.

She looks at him. “Stop laughing.”

“I’m not laughing,” Toby lies.

She glares at him.

“Okay, yes, I’m laughing,” he says, hands in the air. “But to be fair, you’re really funny on Percocet.”

Happy frowns. “I’m funny all the time.”

Toby snorts. “No,” he says. “Like I’ve said, comedy really isn’t your thing.”

“It is, though,” Happy says. “I do comedy shows.”

“Comedy show,” Toby corrects. “One.”

“And people laughed!” Happy says.

“Sly laughed,” Toby corrects. “Happy, you told a knock knock joke.”

“Which was funny!” Happy says. Then she blinks. “Rachel?” she says, a little deliriously.

“Yes, Happy?” the nurse replies gently.

“I feel like I’m very high.”

“That’s because you had some serious pain killers,” Rachel says, smiling at her. “You’re going to be falling asleep again soon, honey, so make yourself comfortable.” She turns to Toby. “Will you be staying with your girlfriend, sir?”

Toby’s eyes widen. “Not her –”

“Close enough,” Happy says, her eyelids closing. Toby stares at her. “What?” she says. “Don’t look at me like that. We’ll get there soon.” She reaches out to pat his hand. “Promise.”

He nods, kissing the top of her hand. “Sleep well, Happy,” he mutters.

“You too, Toby,” she says. The delirious smile on her face remains as she passes out into a drugged out sleep, and she doesn’t drop his hand.

Rachel gives Toby a look when she leaves.

He doesn’t sleep in the stiff chair next to Happy’s bed, but not because the chair is uncomfortable. No, her words echo and rattle in his brain like a billion ping pong balls, shaking him to the core. He’s the first to say that the thoughts that build in your mind when you’re drugged or drunk don’t count – drunk thoughts are sober words his ass, he thinks bitterly as he remembers one of the worst fights with his fiancée.

But he wants her to be telling the truth, god does he want it.

He can tell sleep is a long way away, so he pulls out a book and reads with one handed until the nurse comes in two hours later.

Happy wakes up and Toby’s hand feels cold when she pulls it away to rub at her eyes.

“Hey, whoa,” Toby says as she starts to flail. “You’re good, Happy. We’re in the hospital.”

“Right,” she mumbles, looking at him through lidded eyes. “Surgery. Appendix.”

He smiles at her. “Exactly.”

The nurse checks Happy’s vitals, and from Happy’s mildly snappish attitude deduces that more pain medication is required.

“No, I’m good,” Happy says. She goes to sit up, but the movement causes her face to contort in such pain that the nurse just stares at her until Happy says, “Okay, fine, drug me.”

Toby braces himself for whatever she might say.

The nurse walks away, and Happy’s looking at Toby.

“Why do drugs make me chatty?” she asks.

He shrugs. “They do that to most people,” he says carefully. "I've seen a lot of people have a lot of different reactions."

She sighs. “You told me about your fiancée,” she begins. “She drank, didn’t she.”

Toby can’t help but wince at that. He was prepared for basically anything but that.

“Happy, I –”

“She’s stupid for losing you,” is all Happy manages to say before she drifts back off to sleep.

Toby’s got both hands this time, at least, so he pulls out the Gameboy Advance he’d gotten off of Amazon that Happy fixed up for him, and makes it through that stupid fucking donut level – with baby Mario on Yoshi’s back, thank you very much.

Two hours pass quickly.

“You’re still not asleep?” Rachel asks, looking concerned.

Toby shakes his head. “Can’t,” he says, “not with this one over here making Percocet confessions.” He offers her a smile.

“Dilaudid this time,” she says, returning the smile. “Usually people don’t get that chatty, they just fall asleep.” She winks at him. “Maybe she’s serious.”

“Don’t get my hopes up,” Toby says, only half joking.

It takes a little longer to get Happy to wake up this time, mumbling some nonsense about oxygen and a bar, and she sits up.

“Drugs are weird,” she says, eyes snapping awake. “I can’t sleep.”

“Hap, you’ve been out for two hours.”

She stares at him. “I have?”

He nods. “Pretty good, too. You were snoring.”

“I was not!”

He shrugs. “A little bit.”

This time she only says, “Get better at that game,” and grabs his hand again when she falls asleep.

The nurse, a new one named Maggie accompanied by Dr. Morgan, wakes them up for the final time at eight in the morning, preparing to discharge her around two that afternoon.

“I know you’re anxious to not be prodded,” says the doctor, “but you can’t be alone, I hope you realize.”

Happy looks at him with the sleep-deprived glare Toby is oh so familiar with. “I hope you realize I don’t care.”

“I’ll stay with her,” Toby says.

The doctor nods to Toby. “Good to see he has some sense.”

“According to her I have no sense,” says Toby. 

Happy laughs, then winces. “Ow.”

“Yes, that might hurt for a while,” says the doctor. “But as long as you’re well taken care of I have no worries.”

“She will be,” Toby says. He means it as a joke but it comes out real, and he realizes he means it.

She rolls her eyes. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah,” says Toby. “When you’re facing certain death. Appendicitis, though. That’s my area.”

Happy grumbles a little bit and turns back to the doctor. Discharge information is given and Toby takes it all in. Happy remembers every damn thing she’s ever seen, heard, or felt, but we’re talking Happy on pain meds and sleep deprivation, so Toby’s not taking any chances.

She hums whatever’s on the radio as they drive back to Happy’s apartment, and she mumbles and grabs for his hand whenever they hit a particularly unfortunate bump.

“I’m sorry,” Toby says every time they drive over a part of the road less pleasant. She squeezes his hand in response.

They arrive home and Happy does a worse job walking up her steps than she did walking from the front doors of the hospital to Toby’s car.

She stares at the steps like they’ve threatened to steal her motorcycle, but every time she tries to move her leg she grinds her teeth so badly she looks like she’s going to crack a tooth.

“I’ve got an idea,” Toby says. “But you’re going to think it’s weird.”

“Probably,” Happy says, “but I’m willing for any option other than excruciating pain.”

Toby gently hooks an arm behind her knees and her back.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Happy states. The look on her face is pure murder.

“You want to get in bed or not?” Toby says. “This is a purely platonic mode of transportation.”

“You’re a purely platonic mode of dumbass,” Happy replies, but she lets him take her up the steps. He sets her down the second the floor is level.

“See?” he says. “Took about a quarter of the time and even less of the pain.”

She’s giving him a strange look and, frankly, Toby’s ready for her to punch him in the stomach.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks quietly. “You’re not my boyfriend. You don't have to.”

“No,” says Toby. “But I’m your friend. And you need somebody to make sure you’re alright.”

She frowns. “So you’re not just doing this because you like me?”

Toby shakes his head. “I’m doing this because I want you to be healthy. Also, I’m a doctor. It’s literally my –”

“Literally your job, I know,” Happy says, offering a smile. “You’re pretty good at your job, Doc.”

He shrugs. “Well I did once deliver a baby during a fungus outbreak in a hospital.” He’s deliberately keeping distance between them, but she steps toward him with some sort of determination he’s unfamiliar with.

She walks to him and gives him a half hug with one arm.

“Just because I’m sick and delirious and on extreme pain meds,” she says. She stops talking. “Wait. Give me a second.”

“Lose your train of thought?” Toby asks.

She shakes her head gently. Then she stops and nods. “I don’t know. Probably. Can you come and make sure I don’t die tonight? Today?” She pauses. "I don't know what time it is."

"Four thirty," Toby says. “And like – sleep in your room?” Toby asks. “Sure, I’ll bring an arm chair.”

“God you’re stupid,” Happy says. Toby starts for a second. He’s not quite sure where this is going. “I mean cuddling. Like you? Me? Trying to sleep?”

“Oh,” says Toby. “Are you sure? I mean, there are a lot of medications in your system right now.”

Happy stares at him. “Once in college my friend mixed up my Adderall and her Ecstasy and I managed to design, build, and present an entirely new invention in three hours. I don’t think there’s much that can inhibit my judgement, Toby.”

“Okay,” Toby says warily. “I didn’t know about your illegal drug usage in college. But now I do. And I can never un-know that.” He gestures to her bedroom. “Shall we?”

“Yes, and don’t make it weird,” Happy demands.

Happy gingerly rests herself into her bed and Toby gets her a water, her pain medication, and a box of triscuits.

“Just in case you get hungry,” Toby says, slowly sitting next to Happy. He’s not sure what exactly she meant about cuddling, but he gets an idea when she uses his chest as a pillow.

“Triscuits?” Happy asks. “Where’d you get those?”

“In your cabinets,” Toby says.

“Oh,” Happy says. “Right.” Then she closes her eyes, says, “Goodnight,” and falls directly asleep.

~

Toby manages to sleep, which is rare for him in places he isn’t used to. He blinks away to see Happy stirring, mumbling quietly in almost a whimper.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, running his fingers through her hair. “Hap, you’re alright.”

She blinks open, bleary eyed. “Damn thing hurts,” she grumbles. She moves to sit up.

“No, you stay there, I’ve got it,” Toby says. He shifts so her head drops on a pillow and he grabs the medication.

“I don’t want to have to take it,” Happy grumbles.

Toby looks at her.

“Don’t do that doctor face,” she whines. “I’ll take it.”

Happy’s sleeping on and off for the rest of the day, and Toby passes out with his arm around her shoulders every time she falls asleep.

Eventually, though, he can’t sleep anymore and she can, so he writes her a note and darts to the grocery store for some easy to eat food. He chooses things he knows she’ll like and things she can eat, and when he gets back she’s awake.

“A note?” she says, managing a smile. “You couldn’t have woken me up?”

“I didn’t think you’d care too much about me leaving,” he jokes.

She shrugs, her expression going a little series. “Got used to you being here,” she mumbles.

Toby’s trying really hard not to read into anything she’s saying. She’s on pain medication. She’s in pain. She’s exhausted.

She’s looking at him like she could love him.

“Just – don’t make me say it out loud,” she says quietly. “Come back.”

Toby sets everything down. “You’re seriously high,” he says, because he’s never seen her like this.

“Or maybe I’m just appreciative that you’re always there for me and you’ve never given up.” She shrugs. “Even though I’ve given you every opportunity to.” She reaches out and takes his hand, and after a deep, steadying breath she says, “You realize I remember everything I said last night, right?”

Toby’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Oh, come on, you can’t pretend you don’t remember that,” she tries for a smile. “I’m sick and I’m tired and I’m only slightly high, but I know what I said and I know what I’m saying.”

“Okay,” Toby says. He's afraid to move, to blink, to say a word. He doesn't want to break the moment.

“If it wasn’t for you, my appendix would have ruptured,” Happy says. “You kind of,” she sighs, like she’s fighting to say the words, “you saved my life.”

“Not really,” Toby says, not sure why he’s fighting any of this, because the woman he loves is saying all the things he’s dreamed of, “you would have been okay.”

“Oh, my god, take the bait,” Happy groans. She reaches out her arm and hauls him toward her with all the energy it seems she has left, and Toby finds it reminiscent of their first kiss all those months ago. His mind is laser focused on the way her lips move against his, her tongue sweeping into his mouth.

He pulls away, just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against Happy’s.

“Get the point yet, numnuts?” Happy asks.

“I think so,” Toby says. “I mean, probably.”

Happy laughs, then winces. “Oh, not good.”

“Pain meds,” Toby says, “right now.”

“Okay, Dr. Curtis,” Happy mumbles, swallowing the pills.

Happy falls asleep when she finishes her chicken noodle soon after 20 minutes of Cars, at which she laughed for fifteen straight minutes about how cars could never become sentient (Toby didn’t quite get the joke.)

Toby takes the moment to give Paige a call.

“Hey,” says Paige, sounding hurried. “Just got to the garage. Nobody else is here – is Happy still doing okay?”

“She’s fine,” Toby says. “Still kind of a miserable patient, but I think she’s going to get over it.”

Paige pauses for a minute. “She kissed you again, didn’t she.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

Paige scoffs. “Please. You think you’ve got everything all locked up but you’re easier to read than a Spot book, even over the phone."

Toby grumbles something incoherent in response, and Paige says, “Yeah, yeah, go take care of her. We’ll see you guys when she’s better.”

Happy’s arm is curled behind her head on the bed, the blanket floating across her waist. Toby adjust the blanket so it’s over her shoulders, and sits next to her to watch the rest of the movie.

“Hey Toby?” Happy says after an hour.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for not sleeping though my medical crisis," her lips quirk up, "like you've slept through everything else."

He laughs. “I’m never living that down, am I.”

“Nope,” says Happy. “But I plan on being the one to make sure you never forget it.”

He kisses her, because the moment seems right. He can feel her smiling against his lips.

She’s clearly only a little bit awake when she says, “Don’t you dare make me say any of this again after the surgery because you think I’m not in charge of all of my faculties or however you’d say it.”

“You haven’t really said much,” Toby replies.

She opens one eye and stares at him. “We’re dating now, doofus. Or whatever. We be datin’. However dorks like you say it. Thanks for not letting me die. Sleeping now.”

And she’s out cold.


End file.
